


Through The Window-Pane

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-04
Updated: 2007-08-04
Packaged: 2019-01-19 18:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12415227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: A series of one-shots involving Lily & James. ~Pride~ Lily tried to envisage surviving the rest of the year at school without being near him. She couldn't. SPOILERS FOR DH IN CHAPTER 6 & 7.





	1. Doodles on the Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

**A.N:**  I've missed doing this type of writing. And this is the beginning of a series of one-shots I'm thinking of doing surrounding Lily and James. Because I've recently found inspiration in the form of a collection of photographs on a website (the name of which I can't remember as my laptop is utterly useless and has broken. -_-)

The picture was black and white, and was of a window seat on a bus/train, with a very small drawing of a flower on the glass.

If anyone recognises that description, or knows the website I mentioned (I'm sure the word "Happy" was in the url) I'd be eternally grateful. =)

Now, on with the story! 

\----- 

He knows he shouldn’t watch her while she’s sleeping.

He knows his friends, if they were around, which, thankfully, at the moment they aren’t, would nudge him sharply in the stomach or elbow and tell him to stop acting like a stalker and leave her alone.

He knows that they’re only supposed to be friends, the two of them. They’d spent the entirety of the journey back home laughing and drawing absurd little doodles on the window panes of the carriage, their breath mixing together as they turned the glass cloudy. But he can’t help but feel a sense of longing that starts within his heart and pulsates around his body along with the blood in his veins when he’s close to her.

The small flower that she drew is still standing solitary among the smudged handprints on the glass, her head resting just below it as she slumbers on. He smiles as he takes in the gold and red coloured hat that she pulled over her head just before they boarded the train, complaining that her ears were too cold despite it being the middle of June and quite warm. Her hair is loose and red and curled in tendrils at the ends, framing her petite face and slightly flushed cheeks.

Quietly, he moves from sitting opposite her to sitting next to her, knowing her best friend will be annoyed at the stolen spot when she comes looking for them both. He puts one arm around her shoulder and her body subconsciously turns towards him, and he revels in the intimacy of the moment.

Slowly, she stirs and her eyes open, and he watches as the pupils that are engulfed by her entrancing emerald eyes dilate and then widen as she takes in her surroundings, blushing an endearing shade of pink as she removes her head from his chest.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

He shrugs nonchalantly, smiling again at her awkwardness, “S’lright. We’re almost at the station.”

“Oh,” she returns the smile, a sleepy one as she rubs her eyes with a dainty, ivory hand. Then she bites her lip and he knows she is remembering something, because he knows every little thing about her, another quality that his friends would find stalker-like.

He raises an eyebrow as he watches her rummage around in her coat pocket for something or another. She emerges with a black biro in her hand and smiles jauntily at him and he feels his heart skip a beat.

“You wanted my address,” she explains, “Hold out your hand. I haven’t got a piece of paper.”

So he watches as she scribbles her address down hastily; the train’s whistle has just sounded, piercing and loud, and he feels as though the ink written on his hand, written in her hand, will never wash away, just as the imprints she has made on his heart will never fade.

And then he knows that next year, he won’t watch her anymore. He’ll try, for one last time, to ensnare her heart as she has already done with his.

Little does he know that he already has. 


	2. Old London Town

**A.N:** I managed to write this down after my History exam today...it's an idea that's been buzzing around in my head for about a week or so. =)

\-----

The house looks small from the outside, but on the inside he suspects it to be quite roomy. Townhouses have a habit of surprising you.

James is standing outside Lily’s family home in London’s centre, a street of neatly compact houses with ramschackled roofs, all three storeys high with smoke billowing from their tall chimneys. He knows he’s quite near to a place called Covent Garden but it’s a Muggle place and he’s never been there before, but the name interests him nonetheless. Maybe he and Lily will go there if the meeting goes well.

He gulps and checks his reflection in the glass of the door frame, hoping the inhabitants inside can’t see him yet and trying in vain to make his hair more respectable instead of looking like _“an electrocuted mop”_ as Lily always says affectionately before ruffling it. James doesn’t know what ‘an electrocuted mop’ looks like but he’s content to let her say it because it usually means he gets to kiss her, which is always nice.

And at the prospect of kissing Lily a faint blush rises to James’ cheeks as he reminds himself that he’s about to meet her parents and such thoughts like those are not acceptable. He runs through his mind a checklist of what not to mention, but he knows most of them will end up slipping out anyway and he can only hope Lily’s father will not try to murder him on the spot.

Mustering up the little courage he has left, he tentatively knocks on the wood of the door and waits, thinking of happy thoughts like Quidditch and his mother’s chocolate brownies to quell his churning stomach.

And then suddenly Lily’s standing there with a huge grin on her face and wearing a pretty, white summer dress and James immediately remembers to breathe.

She launches herself into his arms with a delighted squeal as if the three and a half days and five hours they’ve been apart has been an eternity and begins to kiss him soundly, which makes James cross off immediately about three of the things he shouldn’t do in front of her parents, who he knows are watching from the doorway. 

But he finds himself not caring so much now and laughs loudly, kissing her again and again until a loud cough from Lily’s father pulls them apart and James remembers where he is with reinforced terror.

However, the wink that Lily sends him as she takes his hand in hers and the mischievous glint in her mother’s eyes, which is an obvious trait passed on from mother to daughter, assures him that everything will be alright.

And if not, James thinks, then he can always try whisking Lily away on his broomstick.

\-----


	3. Summer Exams

**A.N:**   I wrote this after an R.E exam this morning I think, because I was staring at various people around the room still writing their papers. It's actually rather amusing if you've ever done it. xD 

\----- 

Lily hadn’t _meant_ to stare at him from across the classroom. But now she had and there was nothing she could do about it, unfortunately

She had finished her History of Magic exam for roughly five minutes before he caught her eye, his lanky form bent over the desk, (she had to admit he’d shot up this year), with strands of jet-black hair falling over his face. She could just about make out his hazel eyes behind the rimmed glasses he wore and she supposed that’s what caught her eye in the first place. (Although she never admitted that to her friends and claimed it was the light reflecting garishly off his glasses.)

It wasn’t her fault the boy had to be so intriguing. She thought he looked rather comical, with his papers strewn across the table, (last year’s O.W.L examination given to the fourth year class as a ‘surprise’), and his head tilting to one side while he scribbled things down with his quill. Lily assumed that the writing would be a complete mess and she pitied Professor Binns when he came to mark them.

But much worse than just looking, (much, _much_ worse, in Lily’s opinion), was being caught at it. And what’s more, it was Potter himself that caught her doing so.

When he glanced up, Lily was too slow to look away, and had found herself staring straight into those hazel eyes she had been so intrigued about before and she watched as his mouth turned into a sly half-grin. It was then that she had the decency to blush slightly, which only encouraged the boy more, for then he winked at her in a perceived roguish manner before turning back to his paper.

Lily looked away then, rather embarrassed, (for the situation), bemused, (as to what had just taken place), and slightly annoyed, (both at herself and Potter for his audacity), and kept her eyes glued to the desk for the remainder of her exam.

As soon as the class were out in the corridors, James asked her out, to which she, rather shocked by the request as he’d never taken _that_ sort of interest in her before, promptly refused.

A year-or-so later, she was cursing herself for letting her treacherous eyes glance over him for more than a second.

The ruddy boy had been asking her out ever since.

\----- 


	4. Dilemma

**A.N:**   I'm not too sure about this one...for some reason I find James easier to write than Lily. =/ 

\-----

They’d been going out for three months before James told her those three words which means a relationship crosses the line from casual-ish to serious.

Naturally, Lily was a little shocked and didn’t know what to say. No boy had ever said those words to her before, (none of them had said it and _meant_ it, at least), and she’d only ever used them in the presence of her parents and, sparingly, her sister.

What followed was a rather awkward and pregnant pause into which James coughed nervously and Lily fiddled with her hair until they made their hasty goodbyes, hardly looking each other in the eye.

Now, Lily is sitting in the dorm a few hours later and thinking hard about what James has said, if he means it, and whether she should say them in return.

A frown marrs her usually pretty face as she contemplates the word _‘should’_. Surely if she were to return James’ sentiment, it would be because she _wanted_ to and not because she _ought_ to? And does she _want_ to return the sentiment in the first place?

She feels guilty that she’s even having to think about all this but she knows that she shouldn’t say things she doesn’t mean, it’s not fair on James. But at the same time she doesn’t want her relationship with him to come to an end because there’s always the possibility that she _will_ do in the future.

She bites her lip thoughtfully, glancing over to her side table where pieces of parchment with love hearts involving her and James’ name entwined together adorn every spare corner. Her stomach even flutters just thinking about him or about being around him, to be able to get lost in his arms and run her hands through his hair or even send each other secret looks during lessons. The swell of pride Lily feels in her heart when he announces her as his girlfriend in front of an entire crowd or pulls her close in the Common Room is evidence enough for Lily to think that maybe what she feels is something serious after all.

Then it hits her like a tonne of bricks and she’s grinning and racing down the staircase to the Common Room where she knows he’ll be working until the early hours of the morning on new Quidditch tactics.

He looks up in surprise that she’s even awake at this hour but he doesn’t get a chance to speak because she clambers up onto his lap and buries her head into his chest, allowing herself to savour the giddy feeling that appears when she’s _this_ close to him and smelling his cologne.

“I love you,” she says suddenly, laughter escaping from her mouth straight after, “I love you, I love you, _I love you_.”

And he’s laughing too and encircling her in his arms and kissing the top of her head, and Lily can feel the sigh of relief he’s breathing out and hugs him tighter, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

“I love you,” she repeats again.

He brings her head up so their eyes are locked and she watches his eyes sparkle with so much emotion that she can’t remember why she ever thought she didn’t love him in the first place.

“I love you too,” he confirms, kissing her ever so, ever so softly and the Quidditch plans are left abandoned as he kisses her again, until they both fall asleep beside the dying embers of the fire, wrapped in each others arms.

\-----


	5. Wish Upon A Star

**A.N:** I don't really know what to say about this one, only that I was thinking of my grandad at the time (different gender, I know) and this sort of popped up. :)

\----- 

The first time James sees Lily grieve properly for her mother is when they visit her grave at Christmas.

Jasmine Evans had been dead and buried for three months before Lily had wanted to set foot in the graveyard that held her headstone; they hadn’t been near there since the funeral.

He stands just to the side of a tall yew tree next to the dusty, lime-green Beetle they had travelled in to get there, feeling like an intruder barging in on a conversation between two people in the middle of the street.

The sad thing is, he doesn’t know how he should comfort her, both his parents are alive and well. The deaths they have witnessed during the war that seems never-ending of friends and comrades could never compare to losing one’s mother, the person who bought you into this world.

James smiles grimly; thinking how ironic the situation is as his wife is seven months away from expecting their first child, and Lily’s mother will never even know her daughter is pregnant.

He watches as Lily, who refuses to dress in black has her mother hated the colour, dressing instead in vibrant blues and purples, slowly kneels down to trace the words left on her mother’s gravestone: _Beloved wife, dearest mother and friend. Sadly missed._

James thinks that these words reflect nothing on what his mother-in-law was like at all because she was exactly like Lily, charming and carefree and luminescent and oh so _unique_ , and he knows she didn’t deserve to die the way she did. He vows then and there to make sure Lily’s own gravestone will do her justice, and then chides himself for thinking of a time when she isn’t there, because they’ve got their whole lives ahead of them and are about to start a family.

James almost goes over to comfort her when he sees the tears begin to drip down her face as she places the bouquet of orchids she picked out earlier down on the ground beside the headstone, but after one step forward he pauses, knowing nothing he could say will ever be able to grant Lily’s wish.

Because all she’s wishing for at that moment is her mother back.

So he has to wait until she glances up at him and nods quietly, looking more like a child caught in the middle of a storm than a young woman fresh from fighting. Then he leads her back to the car and lets her rest her head on his shoulder as they drive back home, his hand clasped tightly in hers.

And as they arrive home and get out of the car and James offers to make them some tea, he can’t help but wish that death will steer clear of them for a while.

Unfortunately, for whatever reason the fates decide upon, some wishes just don’t come true. 

\-----


	6. The Beginning Of The End

**A.N:**  I've got to say that there is a ** SPOILER WARNING** for this one. So anyone who hasn't finished DH yet, don't read it.

Also, I know this is only hinting to L/J but it's been buzzing in my head since the end of the book so it's ended up here =)

\------

 ! **Spoiler for Deathly Hallows!**

\------

“He fancies you, you know,” the boy mentions, breaking the silence in which the two had been working in.

“So you keep telling me,” the girl replies, non-plussed. She turns another page in her book and then scribbles something else down.

He watches her quill move across the parchment, “Do you fancy him?”

Her eyes meet his for the briefest of moments, and then returns to the book, her quill stationary in her hand.

“No.”

The pause is too long for his liking, “Right,” he says, gathering his things from the table, her eyes glancing at him from behind the large tome, “I’ll see you later.”

As he leaves, the girl lets out a sigh and looks down to the parchment resting next to her arm, where her embellishments still lie:

_L.E & J.P._

\----

**A.N:** I think Lily only ever saw Severus as a friend, hence this little piece, and I'm also a firm James lover, so I'm never going to change, regardless of what canon throws at me. ^^;


	7. Mutual Understanding

**A.N:** Okay, another spoiler-ish fic. I'm not quite sure about it, James seems rather _young_ in this, so that could be a bad thing, or it could be just my experience with fourteen year old boys ;)

Lyrics at the beginning and the end belong to Guster, _Centre of Attention_ , which I think seem to fit James pretty well.

_\-----_

_~I'm the centre of attention, I promise I've always been this way.~_

_\-----_

James just couldn’t understand it. What _was_ it with Evans? He’d been perfectly courteous to her; well, as courteous as a fourteen year old boy going through a growth spurt with an exceedingly privileged lifestyle could be, and yet she was _still_ refusing to acknowledge his existence!

“Dun’ worry about it, mate,” Sirius had said to him when James had voiced his thoughts one night in the dormitory, “She’s being a _girl_ , plus, she’s friends with _Snivellus_ ; you can’t expect her to adore you, can you?”

Although his best friend did have a point, the young boy, (or rather, young _man_ in James’ own opinion of himself, as he _was_ fourteen now), wanted to get to the bottom of it. He racked his brains for anything that he could’ve done that would have make her act so... _uncivil_ towards him and bought up no results.

He’d complimented her looks, (although Remus had told him what he’d said was rather crude, whatever that meant), carried her things for her, (alright, so he black-mailed a first year to do it, but to him, it wasn’t that big of a deal), he’d _even_ tried to get that snivelling slime-ball, Snape, off her back for her, as he was clearly poisoning her mind, (he’d got into trouble for that, so to him it showed her that he was willing to lose points for hexing Snivellus in a corridor for her attention), but none of it had _worked_.

Most of all, James couldn’t understand how _Severus Snape_ of all people had managed to befriend Evans, managed to make her smile, spend time with him, listen to him. How was it that _Snivellus_ could do that when he, _James Potter_ , couldn’t?

He managed to successfully survey them one day in the courtyard, going over schoolwork or something like that but, to James’ glee, Evans wasn’t smiling.

“– No, Sev, I don’t understand how it’s perfectly acceptable –”

“For heaven’s sake, Lily, Avery wasn’t aiming it at _you_ –”

“Oh, no, you’re right, why on Earth would _he_ want to call _me_ a _Mudblood_ , anyway? I mean, it’s not like he’s an opinionated Death Eater in the making, is he?”

He watched as Evans packed her things away, watched Snape’s desperate attempts to get her to stay, watched as he stopped and stormed off to the dungeons, and felt indignation rise up inside of him. How _dare_ Snape say it was okay for someone to call Evans the...M-word.

Lost in his own thoughts, James didn’t notice the red-head collide into his shoulder, knocking her books flying across the cobblestones.

One of his hands ruffled his hair instinctively, his insides rapidly tying up in knots, “Er...sorry, Evans, didn’t see you!” He grinned widely, ignoring the roll of her eyes as she bent to pick up her fallen material.

“It’s alright, I’ll get them,” James was instantly on the floor beside her, hastily grabbing the books and placing them in her hands. He noticed her surprised expression and grinned again for good measure.

Lily stared at him for a few moments, and James suddenly felt very exposed whilst under the scrutiny of those vibrant, emerald eyes of hers.

“...Thanks,” she said slowly, and James could see that she was still shaken from the incident before.

“You know,” he began hesitantly, “You can’t please everyone.”

“Excuse me?” An incredulous look formed itself on her face, eyebrows rising.

“Well,” James tried again, “I mean that…well, you shouldn’t care about what people like Avery think –”

“– You were eavesdropping! –”

“– Yeah, actually, I was, but that’s beside the point.” He sighed, and willed himself to actually _think_ about what he was trying to say.

“What I’m trying to say, Evans, is that you shouldn’t try to please someone that’s never really going to see past their own prejudices, because it’s like…like trying to eat one of Hagrid’s rock cakes; there just isn’t a point.”

Lily considered for a moment, and James watched as her eyes glanced backwards to the spot where she and Snape had been seated minutes before.

“You really think so?” She turned back towards him, and James was surprised to see that she looked quite troubled. Did Snivellus’ friendship really mean that much to her?

“Er...it’s not like you couldn’t _try_ ,” he answered, trying not to upset her even more, “but, you know, Augurey’s can’t change their song and all that. If I were you I’d just...I’d just stick to people who you know admi– _like_ you.”

A ghost of a smile flitted across her face for a brief moment, and James instantly felt elated, thrilled at being able to make her actually _smile_.

_I’m just as good, no, what am I on about? I’m better than Snape, anyway._

“Sometimes, Potter,” Lily stated as she began to walk away from him, “You actually are alright.” Her head turned to look him in the eye, “But only for brief moments.”

So from that moment on, even though James carried on being James and playing Quidditch and generally being amazing, (in his opinion), and Lily carried on being caring and trying to get along with everyone and ignoring the names and remarks about her heritage right up until the end, James felt that they’d come to a mutual understanding of a sort. 

And that was something James knew Snape no longer had.

\-----

_~My bubble can't burst.~_

_\-----_


	8. Changes

**A.N:**  Hmm...not really pleased with this one. It's getting harder to write from Lily's perspective, for some reason. =/

Lyrics at the beginning and end belong to the wonderful Imogen Heap, from the song _Speeding Cars_. =)

\----

_Here’s the day you hoped would never come._

\----

Lily knew something had changed in James Potter once she heard that his parents had died. Of course, actually _hearing_ the news wasn’t that hard; word travelled fast at Hogwarts, and by lunchtime nearly everyone, except the Slytherins, were offering their condolences.

But _knowing_ he had changed happened when he came traipsing into the Common Room with his friends that evening. She didn’t know what to expect. Lily had never been able to imagine James without a smile on his face; he seemed to give off an aura of spontaneity, of liveliness and exuberance which she didn’t think _anything_ could destroy. Nor could she imagine him distant and brooding, or crying openly, bereft with grief. It just completely annihilated everything that symbolised _him_.

And it annoyed her in a way because, for once, she wouldn’t know how to deal with him.

So when James _did_ walk into the room, Lily took the opportunity to study him; dark hair still as messy as ever, a slight slump in posture, a grim expression on his face. But his eyes, _his eyes_. They held such a resolution in them that Lily felt herself knowing, without a shadow of a doubt, that one day he would become an Auror and fight against evil, fight for his parents, and, maybe, just maybe, fight for her.

Those eyes caught hers for a brief moment and she noticed his mouth contort into a sort of half-smile, as if it pained him to do so.

And then he was gone, upstairs into the boy’s dormitory to go and grieve in whatever way he could, but even then, Lily couldn’t picture him crying.

Later that night, Lily blearily made her way into the Common Room, having left half of her Charms essay by the fireplace.

The fire was still crackling away, the flames licking at each other in a bid to reach the opening of the chimney; it was clear that someone had been down here recently, and she wasn’t really surprised to find James Potter curled up on the settee, hazel eyes wide open and staring into the fire.

She bit her lip, essay falling limp in her hand, and suddenly felt awkward. What does one actually _say_ to the boy you supposedly loathe after his parents die?

His eyes suddenly glanced over to her small frame in the corner, seemingly engulfed by the shadows of the room. Lily met his gaze, still trying to form her words.

Images of all the taunts and bullying, of the way he treated other students, treated her, the countless times he’d asked her out, infuriated her, perplexed her, flashed through Lily’s mind, along with that one, burning image of his eyes earlier that afternoon, and she suddenly found the right words to say.

“I’m here, James.” 

One hand reached out and brushed his for a moment, before she turned round and retreated upstairs to the safety of her bed, marvelling at how that small touch made her whole body tingle and her heart flutter.

So she didn’t really surprise herself, though it surprised the majority of the Great Hall the next morning, when she decided to sit next to James at breakfast, or that their hands ended up entwined underneath the table before morning lessons started.

Lily supposed it wasn’t just James that had done some changing.

\----- 

_It’s in the A-B-C of growing up._

\----- 


	9. Pride

**A.N:** I wrote this a couple of weeks ago when I was listening to Kate Nash, _Foundations_. I found it today and tweaked it a little, but I'm still not sure about the style it's in. =/

All lyrics belong to Kate Nash.

\-----

_My fingertips are holding onto the cracks in our foundations._

\----- 

Hot tears blurred her vision and dripped down onto the carpeted floor below. _But she never cried, never, ever cried over him, not him with his messy hair and his beautiful eyes watching her every move._ Lily felt as though she was drowning in a flood – _of what? Tears? Memories? Him?_

She’d thought they’d clash, _of course they’d clash_ , even before they were together when she was still debating whether or not to give him that chance that he so desperately wanted, needed, even. It wasn’t that they were chalk and cheese, as many people thought, _oh, but it was, it was; oil and water don’t mix_ , but it was because they were both so damn _stubborn , stubborn as mules. Gryffindor pride._

Hence, they had their fall-outs. _Fall-outs, break-ups, does it matter what they’re called?_ Nothing like the perfect relationship that everyone thought they deserved to have, the fairy-tale ending. _Muggle fairy-stories hold no meaning in the Wizarding World, anyway. Mere fantasy._

Lily nearly always found herself in the Common Room in the early morning hours after their spats, _but never crying, he’d never made her cry before now._ It had started off as something silly, but, as usual, had escalated and _sometimes, oh, God, sometimes,_ she just wondered _why was she bothering?_

He’d said the exact same thing to her hours ago, when their voices were raised and their bodies angled sharply away from each other, _so, so different to how they were the day before, all arms and legs entangled and breaths mingled and foreheads touching._

_\-----_

_“If you don’t think we’re right for each other, Lily, then why the hell are you bothering?”_

_“Don’t you dare start twisting my words, James. I’ve never said anything like that; you’re the one that always seems to be looking for a way out!”_

_“Oh, that’s right, it’s all me, and never you, is it? I’m bloody fed up of this, Lily.”_

_“Well go then. You won’t see me stopping you.”_

_“Fine.”_

_\-----_

They hadn’t spoken to each other since, _but, God, she was thinking about him_, and Lily tried to envisage surviving the rest of the year at school without being near him, _or the rest of her life, for that matter._ She couldn’t.

She fancied that, by the next day, everything would be alright again, _oh, please let everything be alright again_ , and they’d meet at the bottom of the staircase and walk to breakfast, hands linked, and laugh it off as another of their ‘lover’s tiffs.’

But come next morning, he got up earlier, and she exited the Common Room alone. He’d gone to morning lessons by the time she’d finished her breakfast and, in the evening, he had Quidditch practice; she had homework to do.

Pride is a horrible thing when it keeps you from the ones you really care about. 

\-----

_I know that I should forget; but I can't._

\-----


End file.
